Day 1 (62 cont.), Tues 8/22, Norwich Inn, 1.5
After I finished my town chores and made my last NH blog post, I headed out for my free pizza. As soon as I walked up to Ramunto’s Brick and Brew, I saw Sock Pile and Clean Break. I bought them beers to drink while I ate my pizza. In return, they invited me to spend the night on their B&B floor since it was getting late.
It was a mile and a half walk across the river and into our third state to get to their B&B. It was a super nice place—way above my level of welcome (nice places tend to shun me). To show their awareness of my plight, they were advertising about homeless people outside—these are my people, minus the super crazy (mildly crazy, I’m fine with).
Day 2 (63), Wed 8/23, Thistle Hill Shelter, 13.1
A floor in a hotel is still much more comfortable and sleep inducing than a shelter. I was able to let my arms touch the floor without fear of spider bites. (My arm is still not right after the spider bite I got in Carter Notch Hut almost 3 weeks ago…I can put pressure on it again, but I have a swollen pocket of fat on my elbow. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up one morning with thousands of spiders crawling out of my elbow. I still haven’t gotten any superpowers! I don’t see any benefit to being bitten. Hollywood lies!)
I woke up at 6a as usual these days. I wasn’t quite ready to pack up and go so I decided if I peed, I could sleep another hour before packing up. Once I stood up, I realized I was inside and would be required to use a toilet rather than peeing on Clean Break’s pack (which would have benefited from the ammonia). I fell sound asleep and didn’t wake up again until after 8.
The local coffee shop was closed so I settled on donuts and a breakfast sandwich from Dave and Whitts (the local grocer). There was a group of NOBOs hanging out in front. Of course, they mistook me as a section hiker because I was clean and shaved. If a woman is clean shaven, she’ll still get the benefit of the doubt, but not old men.
One of the NOBOs was interested enough to ask pertinent questions about The Whites. I was giving him information about the AMC pass, stealth spots, resupply strategies, and unknown information about the huts (like buying supper at Lake of the Clouds). One of the other know-it-all NOBOs told him not to listen to what I was saying, all the information he’ll need can be gotten at Hiker’s Welcome Hostel and to me “Don’t you have a lot of miles to go? It’s time for you to get going.” I was floored and momentarily pissed, but I didn’t let my anger show. I looked at him, blinked twice, wished them all happy trails, and took off. There was more prior interaction when I was trying to explain the AMC pass. I don’t wish him ill, but I won’t be upset when I hear about a hiker getting fined $500 in The Whites.
Today was the start of the last bubble (hopefully) and my impression of the majority I met today was less than favorable. I met a girl with her earbuds in who clearly looked at me and saw me talking (“congratulations on your entry into NH”). She didn’t even acknowledge that I said anything—just stared at me and walked by.
I met another group that acted pretty much the same way. I just said “hi” and they just stared at me and didn’t say a word. The last guy at least said “hi, happy trails” to me.
Happy Hill Shelter would have been my target for last night. Instead, I stopped in there for a snack break. I ran into Chris who I had met this morning at Dave and Whitts. One of the NOBOs had dissed him this morning because he is just starting a section hike today. We talked for a while before he moved on. I still had some unfinished business from my quick departure from the B&B.
I ran into Chris again at the Blue Barn in West Hartford. We had a cold soda with Linda (the trail angel/owner). We also met a couple of friendly NOBOs while there. It was refreshing after this morning’s interactions to see there are still decent people out. Chris decided to push on the additional 5 miles with me to Thistle Hill Shelter.
It was almost dark by the time we arrived. I set up my tent and got inside to cook and get ready for bed. I had promised Chris some Benadryl to help him sleep, but forgot it until way past hiker midnight. He’s going to be hurting tomorrow doing 13 miles on his first day.
Day 3 (64), Thurs 8/24, The Lookout, 14.9
Soho, Chris, and I were the last ones out. I gave Chris a sleeve of Benadryl and wished him luck. I’ve bought a 1/2L of Sauvignon Blanc to drink while I watch the sunset from the deck on top of the Lookout. She’s calling me.
There were noticeably fewer NOBOs (10 ish) today. I understand they are stressed from being so late in the season. The ones willing to talk wanted good intel on The Whites and what to expect. I shared what info I could pass on in a couple of minutes. A few were concerned about the Presidentials so I shared the plan I’m going to follow on my return which only requires 3 meals to be carried.
Calamine and Inspector were among the last couple of NOBOs I saw today. We hit it off and talked for quite a while. They gave me intel on new hostels down south that aren’t officially open yet but accepting hikers. They are artists and have been trading their talents for “work for stay”—they painted a mural in a new hostel in Harpers Ferry that I plan on seeing.
“On the Edge” farm market was 9 miles into my day. It’s close to the trail so I thought I’d drop in for a non-dehydrated snack. They had pints of ice cream which caught my eye. After my dismal trial run of eating 3 pints at Hikers Welcome Hostel (it took me two sittings to down), it’s obvious I need to practice more to improve my game. It’s only 600 miles to the “half gallon challenge.” I started slow with just a single pint, but the extra calories (and turbo output) should help propel me the final 6 miles to The Lookout.
Groundhog had stopped and talked with me while I was having a snack at a Brook. He had The Lookout all to himself last night. I was hoping for the same luck tonight. The best laid plans…
When I finally made it to the shelter, I found 7 NOBOs already there. It was almost dark and threatening rain. As soon as I stepped on the porch, the threat became reality. No sunset. No sitting on the upper deck. No isolation.
In the end, I became a pariah. I set up my bed but ate supper alone on the porch. I even stayed up late to drink my wine, in the dark, listening to the rain. Talk about being outside of the social norm—I had the audacity to stay up until nearly 9p. Thru-hikers don’t stay up that late. I’m clean shaven. Maybe I am a section hiker.
Day 4 (65), Fri 8/25, Clifford Woods State Park, 14.3
There’s a few problems with The Lookout. There’s no water, so you have to carry it in with you. I carried 4 liters of water 3 miles. But the bigger problem is no privy. I was looking at carrying that load 7 miles if I wasn’t interested in digging a hole in the rain. I wasn’t.
It rained all night. There is a fireplace and one of the guys had built a fire so that was cozy. I woke up at 6, checked my elbows for new spider bites, and peed off the porch for the 4th time. I heard the NOBOs checking the weather and claiming the rain will stop by 10. I can wait to get up and the urgency for anything else wasn’t bad.
I’ve discovered new things about my body. I used to think I had a “morning window” to take care of business. I’ve now come to understand that when the urgency wains, the need hasn’t. By the time I left at 9:30, the urgency was gone, but I knew this period was the “danger zone.” All releases must cease or ruin could follow.
With tears in my eyes, I proceeded as fast as I could. In other words, not very fast because waddling was part of the gate. I didn’t make it to safety until nearly 2p. To my amazement, the effort was worth it to be a part of the early christening of a new moldering privy at Stony Brook Shelter Shitter.
The rest of the day was blissful and wet. No, I’m not incontinent, too. It was raining. It rained all day. It rained so hard that the trees couldn’t protect me and I had to get out my umbrella again. I passed a few weekend hikers with one in particular that seemed pissed at me for using an umbrella. He screamed “it’s a waste of time. You’re still going to get wet.” I didn’t think he was much of a backpacking authority since he was carrying his sleeping pad and bag in his arms because his pack was too small. Say what you will, my underwear was still dry so my ass wasn’t sticking to my pants.
It was another late night getting into camp. I somehow missed the state park office and walked a half mile past. There was no way I was going back downhill that far. My priority became finding the bathroom and then finding someplace close to that to stay. There was a shelter next to the bathhouse. I decided to squat there for the night. If I don’t get caught, I’m saving $6.
Day 5 (66), Sat 8/26, Yellow Deli, Rutland, 3.0
It rained hard again last night. Heavy rain is a lullaby to me. I slept solid until 5:15. Since I was lucky enough to wake up early, I thought I should take advantage of the time to make my escape without detection. I got my earliest start in weeks…on the trail by 6:30.
I’m having a hard time staying “in the present.” This is one of my goals from this trip: to quit worrying about the future. I know it’s wasted energy. When I catch myself doing this, I do something even more bizarre—I start talking to the trees. In my defense, I’m not having conversations with individual trees where I stop and talk one-on-one. I talk to the forest in general. (I’ve only gotten caught once by another hiker, but I noticed their pace picked up considerably after the encounter).
Today, I was doing what I’m constantly accusing the NOBOs of doing—I was calculating the mileages I need to cover to complete this hike. This is stupid on so many levels. 1) I’m already 9 days ahead of my original plan. 2) I’m 2 days ahead of the plan (which is also accelerated over my original plan) I need to keep to meet my friend, David in NY. And, 3) I’ve still got nearly 14 months to go to complete this hike.
Once I started talking to the trees, my anxiety dropped. They have this thing they do when I get in one of these moods—they grab my hiking poles to slow me down. I’ve had pretty much dirt track for the last 90 miles, so it’s been more of a challenge for them, but I can always count on them coming through for me.
The goal for the day was to make it in town to get everything done early and enjoy the day. I had heard there’s a free bus that passes the trailhead around 8:20—my target. I got to the road at 8:35 and saw the outbound bus passing in the opposite direction. I had 45 minutes to kill, so I put out my thumb.
I got a ride within 10 minutes (who needs women?). I was the 22nd hiker he’d picked up this year. He delivered me right to the door of the Yellow Deli (cult of the Twelve Tribes) in Rutland. He gave me one piece of advice before driving off…”don’t accept any literature while you are staying there. If you take it, they will insist upon discussing it with you. Get out as fast as you can.”
I think a free bed, shower, and laundry is a fair exchange for my soul…maybe throw in a good Reuben.
EFG